Jove!
Why weren't you here ten minutes ago? You never saw such a sight in your
life! Thought the whole Row was going crazy, 'pon my soul!"

"Why, what happened?" asked Lady Winsleigh, smiling graciously upon him.
"Anything extraordinary?"

"Well, I don't know what you'd call extraordinary;" and Sir Francis
Lennox yawned and examined the handle of his cane attentively. "I
suppose if Helen of Troy came driving full pelt down the Row all of a
sudden, there'd be some slight sensation!"

"Dear me!" said Clara Winsleigh pettishly. "You talk in enigmas to-day.
What on earth do you mean?"

Sir Francis condescended to smile. "Don't be waxy, Clara!" he urged--"I
mean what I say--a new Helen appeared here to-day, and instead of 'tall
Troy' being on fire, as Dante Rossetti puts it, the Row was in a burning
condition of excitement--fellows on horseback galloped the whole length
of the Park to take a last glimpse of her--her carriage dashed off to
Richmond after taking only four turns. She is simply magnificent!"

"Who is she?" and in spite of herself, Lady Winsleigh's smile vanished
and her lips quivered.

"Lady Bruce-Errington," answered Sir Francis readily. "The loveliest
woman in the world, I should say! Phil was beside her--he looks in
splendid condition--and that meek old secretary fellow sat
opposite--Neville--isn't that his name? Anyhow they seemed as jolly as
pipers,--as for that woman, she'll drive everybody out of their wits
about her before half the season's over."

"But she's a mere peasant!" said Mrs. Marvelle loftily. "Entirely
uneducated--a low, common creature!"

"Ah, indeed!" and Sir Francis again yawned extensively. "Well, I don't
know anything about that! She was exquisitely dressed, and she held
herself like a queen. As for her hair--I never saw such wonderful
hair,--there's every shade of gold in it."

"Dyed!" said Lady Winsleigh, with a sarcastic little laugh. "She's been
in Paris,--I dare say a good _coiffeur_ has done it for her there
artistically!"

This time Sir Francis's smile was a thoroughly amused one.

"Commend me to a woman for spite!" he said carelessly. "But I'll not
presume to contradict you, Clara! You know best, I dare say! Ta-ta! I'll
come for you to-night,--you know we're bound for the theatre together.
By-bye, Mrs. Marvelle! You look younger than ever!"

And Sir Francis Lennox sauntered easily away, leaving the ladies to
resume their journey through the Park. Lady Winsleigh look